


I’ll get the blankets if you get the pillows

by golden_tragedy



Series: christmas prompts from my groupchat [3]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, They finally address everything, happy ending because it’s a Christmas fic, im starting to really like both of them together lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_tragedy/pseuds/golden_tragedy
Summary: Despite Cris pulling off an airport scene love confession(?) straight out of a movie, they still haven’t quite talked about the issue. What better time to do it than after Davi insists they all sleep under the tree?
Relationships: Cristiano Ronaldo/Neymar
Series: christmas prompts from my groupchat [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065338
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	I’ll get the blankets if you get the pillows

They still haven’t addressed what happened, not that they got the time. Davi insisted on decorating the tree the very instant that they reached Cris’s house again. 

“The cookies just finished.” Neymar mutters as the oven lets out a ding. 

Cris pointedly looks at him from where he’s lying under the tree, Davi fast asleep on his chest. Neymar rolls his eyes as he lies down next to him. 

“I don’t know why you agreed to this.”

“He just wants to sleep under the tree, Ney.”

Neymar shakes his head, but says nothing and they watch the light reflecting off the ornaments. 

“What if the ornaments fall off and scar your face?” Neymar muses 

Cris cuts him a scathing glare and Neymar stifles a laugh. 

“Wait, let me get a pillow for him and then you come and ice the cookies with me.”

So Cris waits until Neymar gets a pillow and blanket and then carefully sets Davi down and follows him into the kitchen. 

“Green and red and white icing, obviously.” Neymar pulls the icing out of the fridge while Cris takes out the piping bag. 

He’s in a good mood, judging by the way he’s humming, so Cris takes a deep breath, slides the drawer closes with a nudge of his hip, and hops on the counter. 

“Neymar.” 

He turns toward him, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

“We need to talk,” Cris tilts his head, brushing his hair away and Neymar sighs, walking up in front of him. Cris hooks his leg around his waist. Neymar plucked a piece of pine off of Cris’s sweatpants. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you really regret signing it?”

Neymar exhales shakily. 

“In a way. I don’t regret leaving. I had to. It’s the only thing left for me. But I don’t want to leave the people. I don’t want to leave Leo. I don’t want to leave Luis. Or Sergi or Dani. And I don’t want to leave you.”

“But if you’re sure that this is the only thing left for you it shouldn’t really matter.”

“But you’re all so important to me and I don’t know what to do, because I can’t live without you. Not you, or Leo’s dumbass jokes or Luis’s disgusting food. You three are the most important people in my life and I don’t want that to change. And Davi won’t be able to come visit as much anymore.”

“If Leo and Luis think about you the same way, they’ll keep in touch and make an effort to be in your life no matter where you are. And they will. Even I can see that much. And as for Davi, you’ll still be able to see him. Maybe not twice a month. Maybe once a month, but he’s not going anywhere.”

“And what about you?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Cris says, a slight snap to his words “I’m not going anywhere either. Whether you live in Paris or Spain or Brazil, you’re still Neymar, and you’re still my boyfriend. And that’s not going to change.”

Neymar’s throat bobs, and he takes a step even closer and rests his forehead against Cris’s chest, and Cris is pretty sure he’s crying because his shirt feels wet, but he doesn’t say a word, and just wraps his arms around his boyfriend, whispering sweet nothings in Portuguese. Their first language. Slightly different in dialect but soft and lovely and pretty. Neymar’s shoulders shake, and a few moments later his entire body does too. It shakes violently, and Cris tightens his hold because if the words he’s still muttering can’t do enough, maybe this will. Neymar’s knees seem to buckle and he lurches downward, but Cris’s legs, still wrapped around his waist, keep him upright. 

“I’m sorry,” Neymar whispers, the Portuguese lilting and beautiful. “Cris I’m sorry.” 

He punches the counter. 

“I was so damn scared beca-“ 

His voice trembles and shakes. 

“Because it’s such a big price tag and what if I can’t do it, what if this is the worst decision I ever make? What if I can’t do it without Leo and Luis?”

“Neymar. Listen to me. Before you were a Barca player, before you were a part of MSN, you were Neymar. The Brazilian wonderkid everyone wanted. You learnt how to become better and stronger and you’re one of the best players in the world. You don’t need Messi to raise you up.”

Neymar’s still crying, but there isn’t any desperation in it anymore. The raspy breathing evens. His shaking fists loosen up and hang loosely at his sides. 

When Cris’s legs aren’t holding him up anymore, Neymar looks up, eyes shining, tears still winding down his face, and he stands on his toes and kisses him. Soft and sweet and with the lingering taste of salt on his lips. Cris’s fingers tangle in Neymar’s curls as he tilts his head slightly, deepening it and Neymar lets out a low moan. They pull away, flushed and panting, and Neymar doesn’t look quite so desolate anymore. His fingers fiddle with the drawstrings of Cris’s sweatpants. 

Cris slaps them away. 

“Your son is sleeping ten feet away from us.” He crosses his arms

“My son,” Neymar rolls his eyes “has been on two flights in the same day, gone through a sugar high and is sleeping like the dead.”

“You’re not the quietest person in the world, Neymar.”

“I’m fairly quiet when I top?” Neymar wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

“I don’t bottom,” Cris tilts his head with a smile 

“Why not?” Neymar drowns 

“Don’t like it.”

“Does this have to do with your god complex?”

“It has everything to do with my god complex.”

“Fine,” he pouts dramatically “I’ll bottom.”

“Nice try.”

“Alright fine, but then we have to get me food.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“We can cook?”

“Or,” Cris points at the tree “we can go to sleep.”

“Boring.”

“How’s this, we go to sleep like sane human beings and then I’ll bottom for you at some point before you leave.”

“Liar.”

“No, really.” Cris kisses him again, gently biting on Neymar’s lip, drawing an almost guttural moan that makes Davi twitch in his sleep. “Consider it a parting gift.” 

“Alright.” Neymar grins at him “I’m going to hold you to that.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“I’ll get the blankets if you get the pillows?” 

“Sure.” Cris hops off the counter, casts a glance at the forgotten icing, then dismisses it and walks toward his room and grabs two pillows while Neymar grabs his blanket and the one in the guestroom and they meet up next to the tree. Practically buried in blankets, Cris throws his leg over Neymar’s and they go to sleep whispering about how they’re going to meet once Neymar leaves. 

“Every alternate weekend,” Neymar says with a grin, and his mocha eyes are warm and bright.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the last part of the Cris/Neymar series! It was so much fun to write these two I cry. Let me know what you think in a comment :)


End file.
